


All Time Low

by orphan_account



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, Being Lost, Best Friends, Broken Promises, Cheating, Class Issues, Consent Issues, Cutting, Depression, F/F, Family Issues, Food Issues, Forced Bonding, Forced Masturbation, Forced Relationship, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Girls Kissing, Help, High School, Identity Issues, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Kissing, Loneliness, Medication, Medicine, Mental Health Issues, Neck Kissing, Obsessive Behavior, Obsessive-Compulsive, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Other, Panic, Panic Attacks, Psychologists & Psychiatrists, References to Depression, School, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, Suicide Attempt, Suicide Notes, Triggers, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-12-30 14:48:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12111054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: This is not a fanfiction. If you're not interested in original works, please refrain from reading!Maybe, just maybe, not even the sky is the limit. Perhaps you have to get passed the sky before reaching the limit; the place where there is no return and no looking back. The point of being stuck and trapped, and being able to nothing about it. The all time low... This is the story of how a life got turned upside down within six years.





	All Time Low

What is happiness? What does it mean to be okay with what is going on in your life... To be 100% capable of going through the day without questioning whether or not you want to live to see the next day, if it's even worth it. I wish I knew that feeling, that feeling that every therapist, doctor, psychiatrist, or whatever has tried to help me feel. But for some reason, I cannot feel it. It's like the grief one gets when a loved one dies, but the grief doesn't go away. You're missing something, but you don't know what it is. I can't find out what I'm missing, and I feel so trapped.

 

Everyday, I feel so free but at the same time so fake. _"Forty milligrams of Prozac every morning for Anxiety, OCD and Depression"; "Twenty-five milligrams of Vistaril every night for Insomnia and Anxiety"; "Twenty milligrams of Dexedrine every morning for ADD"_ \--is my entire personality made up of capsules that I pop in my mouth to avoid killing myself? Is this what this plan is? I feel so unaware of who I am because I'm being disguised by a mask that's in a few orange bottles on my night stand and the mask feels so unrealistic, but it's the most realistic it can be. The most realistic... I can be...

 

It all started when I was ten. We had to move due to work issues, and I knew that I was going to leave my friends and family behind, but I didn't care because my friends were all a bunch of bullies anyway. We moved, and it hit me that I was never going to see them again. Everyday walking into my fifth grade classroom, people would say: _"Your accent is so cute!"--"Can you try to talk normally?"--"Where are you from?"_

 

**Every. Fucking. Day.**

 

I felt so different, so unique from everyone else. I hated standing out because I was taught not to do such things, why am I being forced into this situation with people who don't even know me!? I started picking my skin to distract myself. I would just pinch and scratch until I heard my skin pop, and I would watch the blood pour down my forearms off of my fingertips. I didn't know it was dangerous at first, I just knew it made me feel better, so I kept doing it.

 

By the time I turned eleven, I got a dog for my birthday. _(This is a very important detail in this story, so remember that I was given a lapdog)_ I was going into Middle School, and I didn't know how to feel about the fact that everyone from my elementary school was going to be there with me. The kids who kept complaining about their inability to understand what I'm saying. It started out fine, but then I got mixed into a group of friends who treated me very badly. I was physically and verbally bullied by these three "friends" everyday for my entire sixth grade. They would pull my hair, slap me, scratch me, call me names, tell everyone my secrets, and they would call me a liar anytime I said something that they couldn't handle. And the worst part is... I can't lie. It takes away people's right from the truth, and I just can't lie to people without a good reason. These girls kept giving me their homework and trash, I was so fed up.

 

I turned twelve... I started reaching the limit more and more. My dad had a Pulmonary Embolism and was rushed to the hospital. He stayed there for five days, and as soon as he came home, my mom divorced him and moved out with my half-brother. They had joint custody of me, but I felt so unloved after my stepdad came into the equation. He brought his daughter--my stepsister--into the family. She is five years younger than me, so she got all the attention. I was still picking my skin, but I found a sharp edge and decided to cut. I was cutting everyday for a couple of months until my mom and dad found out. They grounded me for being so stupid, and took my phone away. I also started starving myself around this time, but that never went away because they never really found out. I became even more depressed after I created a persona under the name of "Victor", and everyone found out he was fake. This is when my status as a compulsive liar really spread around.

 

Finally thirteen, a teenager. It can only get better, right? **Wrong.** The people that were giving me hell were only making it worse. I finally had a stepmom, but she had no idea how to take care of children. She was abusive and she indirectly told me she was 100x smarter than I was all the time. I started cutting again, but I didn't tell anyone. I only cut once while I was thirteen, but it was deep and it left a nasty scar. My stepmom moved in with my dad, and I was still switching between parents every few weeks, so I only had to see her 50% of the time. Overall, this year wasn't as eventful as any of my other years...

 

I'm fourteen, a highschooler! This is what I was waiting for, a new start to finally show people that I'm not a compulsive liar, and that I'm actually worth talking to. My year was going by absolutely fine until my friend Sen committed suicide. I was one of the first people to find out that he shot himself. I started cutting like crazy, I met new friends who left me right after they found out, and then people from my middle school left me alone until the worst possible thing could have happened.

 

Fifteen. How boring. Fifteen is a boring age. Anyways, by this point, I went to a doctor and got diagnosed with Insomnia, Anxiety, and OCD. I went to therapy (which didn't help), and at this point I was ready to just end it. Cutting seven+ times a day, never eating, always isolating myself... I needed more help than what I was getting, but I had no idea how to ask. I moved in with my dad and stepmom because my stepdad started treating me badly, and I was having enough of it. All of my friends from freshmen year left me because my middle school friends got pissed that I was doing so well and told them all about my "compulsive lying". I had almost no one except for this one girl in particular... We'll call her Jenny for the sake of her privacy. Jenny was really nice. Well, for awhile.

 

She was always there for me when she saw new holes or lines on my arms, and she never told a soul about it. But then my other friend (who we'll call Amanda) left me for her precious color-guard team. I got kicked out of it due to some medical conditions regarding my elbow. Amanda was really all I was holding onto, and for six months I was severely depressed because of how empty I felt. I've known Amanda since sixth grade, how could she just leave like that? Continuing on with the story, I was stuck inside of a pit that I couldn't get out of. I was finally forced to get out of it when my dad had a seizure, and I had to call 911. It was the most damaging and scarring thing I've ever witnessed. I've never seen someone with so much authority over me be so weak, and it killed me knowing that he could die if he didn't get to the hospital. His face was blue, he was vomiting everywhere, he kept choking and gasping for air, but worst of all he was screaming because he was in pain, and I couldn't do anything to help him. Once the paramedics took him, he claims to remember nothing before he got into the ambulance. My stepmom slept in the hospital with him until he discharged, leaving the house to myself. But later that year, I made a suicide attempt, my dad had an aneurysm, then he had another seizure followed by a concussion, then he passed out and hit his head that just recovered, I couldn't handle this all at once.

 

My friend came down and made me kiss her, and she was already taken by someone else.

 

My mom found out about the suicide attempt, made me move in with her, and enrolled me in an intense group therapy called IOP.

 

And now I'm sixteen, where we are currently.

 

I've been forced to make out with yet another girl, I have no friends because of my "compulsive lying", everyone hates me, I'm still suicidal, I don't cut anymore but I pick _a lot_ and to top it all off, I recently was diagnosed with very severe ADD/ADHD. The psychiatrist said that my OCD, Anxiety, Insomnia, and Depression could've been avoided if I was screened earlier on for ADD...

 

It took six years to figure out what was actually wrong with me, and now I have no one because of it. I have no friends, **none.** They all think everything I say is bullshit, and one of them even ditched me because she said "I know some of the stuff you tell me isn't true," when in reality she doesn't know. I haven't told a lie in months, and if I have it was because I was trying to not get an F on that one homework assignment...

 

But no one will believe me.

 

I'm just a compulsive lair, right?

 

It's why everyone left... It's why the only thing I'm living for right now is my dog and my girlfriend. Isn't that kinda pathetic... Only have two people in my life who are keeping me here; one of which isn't even a human. Jenny, the most toxic yet only friend I had left _left me._ I have no one. I cry myself to sleep every night, I can't talk to people without the fear that they'll call me liar. I'm not a fucking liar, why did those girls have to tell everyone that? It isn't true. But then again, who would believe me? Now I live knowing that all of this could've been avoided if my doctor screened me for ADD when I was ten.  Six. Years. Ago. 

 

I'm so alone and lost, it hurts. Everyone hates me, and if this is life then I sure as hell don't want to live it. I know myself better than anyone else, and I know that I'm the most honest, forgiving, and caring person in the world. But everyone else sees me as the dumb, compulsive liar. So I guess that's where I am now. Starving, picking, and being masked by medication that are supposed to make me feel good.

 

I wish I could start over.

 

I wish things turned out differently...

 

_**I wish I was never born at all.** _

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! This took me a few hours to write, so I really hope you enjoy it.
> 
> I'm also beyond sorry if the story triggered you in anyway shape or form, I am just one message away if anyone needs to talk!
> 
> Please make sure to leave Kudos <3


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